Rebuild
by sartietingles
Summary: Captain America, Sam Evans struggles to deal with both the aftermath of the Chitauri invasion and his feelings for a certain occasionally green scientist.


_**Title**__: Rebuild  
__**Genre**__: Romance, Some angst  
__**Word Count**__: ~3000  
__**Pairing**__: Artie/Sam  
__**Summary**__: Captain America, Sam Evans struggles to deal with the aftermath of the Chitauri invasion, and his feelings for a certain occasionally green scientist.  
**Author's Note: **This is a glee au set in the Avengers movieverse. If you haven't seen it most of what's relevant is explained.  
_

* * *

Sam Evans sat in his room in Anderson Tower overlooking the wreckage that once was New York City.

Giving a sigh, he tried to piece back the memories of how New York had been in his time. Then he tried to remember how it had been since he'd been rescued from the ice. But he couldn't do either. All he could see was the destruction; smoky piles of rubble, structures with entire walls missing, shards of broken glass glittering the empty roads. It had been some weeks since he, Captain America, and the Avengers had fought off the Chitauri and sent Finn, God of Thunder, and his ambiguously related sexy counterpart Kurt, God of Mischief, back to Asgard.

New York was still in shock. The Avengers were still in shock. No one seemed to know how to move on.

Which is part of the reason why, since being hurried out of his SHIELD apartment into Anderson Tower so that they could respond more quickly to emergencies and 'bond', or whatever Director Sue had actually told them between her flurry of insults, Sam had remained in his room. All the other Avengers had paired off uncomfortably quickly and found solace in each other, and he felt forgotten. Alone.

Agent Lopez and Agent Puckerman had their weird way-too-familiar-with-each-other-I'd-guess-you-were-married-if-you-both-weren't-so-gay relationship going on. Between them there was the occasional jibe about how quickly Puck had been seduced ("BRAINWASHED, SANTANA. I WAS BRAINWASHED.") by Kurt which nearly always ended with Puck lazily trying to kick Santana from the couch where he'd been absent mindedly twirling arrows and Santana spectacularly throwing him to the ground without batting an eye.

Artie and Blaine who had, for all Sam knew, absorbed themselves so much in their experiments (read: excuses to blow shit up) and arguments over whether Eminem's or Katy Perry's music was better for science that they'd forgotten how to leave the lab.

Blaine was a billionaire, genius, gayboy, philanthropist with literally no sense of appropriateness or tact. He was somehow charming enough to get away with it. No one could really understand why.

And then there was Artie. Who had been nothing like anything Sam could have expected.

Agent Schue had shown him the footage (in between thinly veiled flirting which had been... concerning) of Artie's 'other guy' when they were on the way to the helicarrier, before the invasion. "That thing," Schue had called him, his tone warning. Sam was nervous, to say the least, and he had no idea what the human form of 'that thing' would be like.

So when Artie Abrams rolled up to him and, upon seeing his shaken, nervous gait beyond his mask of military posture and formality, did one of those new-fangled high-five-man-hugs, Sam felt a strong wave of affection for the good Doctor.

"WHAT'S COOLER THAN BEING COOL?" Artie had asked him as they straightened up out of the hug.

"I, uh, I'm not sure, Doctor Abrams," Sam had stuttered, a faint fear that once again someone was making fun of him for being old or out-of-touch.

Artie gave him a wicked grin and shouted, "ICE COLD!"

Sam found Artie's grin infectious and couldn't help but be joyed by the fact that someone was laughing _with him_ instead of _at him_. Even if he didn't quite get it.

Artie recognised the slight confusion behind Sam's grin and explained, "It's your theme song, yo. You gotta work it. I'll play it to you later, ok?"

"Ok," Sam agreed and he and Artie headed off towards the entrance of the helicarrier together.

As the security guards and army personnel stalking around grew more numerous once they were inside, Sam could feel Artie tense next to him. Schue had told him Artie'd been on the run from SHIELD for years, and Sam marvelled at how someone could be on the run from a super spy organisation for so long when they couldn't even, well, run. Schue had also told him about the tanks and the guns and the elaborate chases and the soldiers who'd tried (and often succeeded) to capture Artie. To experiment on him. Sometimes even torture him. He had, to his guilt, dismissed it somewhat before. But after seeing Artie's confidence slide away and the colour drain from his face as he became more wary and fearful, his heart hurt. So he put a hand on his shoulder and felt Artie relax somewhat, glad that even though he too was a soldier, Artie saw him as different and trustworthy. For the first time in this new time he started to feel less alone, and it was strange that such a lonely man had made him feel that.

Then everything seemed to happen at once. There were explosions and transformations and fights and he yelled at Blaine and Blaine yelled at him and Finn told everyone that they were tiny and Puck was compromised and Puck came back and Artie came back and Kurt fucked with all of them and there was a giant vortex in the sky and Santana enjoyed kicking Puck in the head a little too much but most importantly _Artie came back_.

And he, or that giant angry green version of him, was magnificent. He saved them all – Sam more times than one. He transformed back into regular tiny Artie after the battle, somewhat groggy and… drunken in his post-hulk stage. When Blaine insisted they go for post-battle biscotti, Artie fell asleep at the table. Sam only barely resisted the urge to coo and stroke his hair because there is only so much dopey, dreamy smiling Artie he can handle.

The biscotti run had been a rare moment of piece for the 6 unlikely friends. They chatted fairly easily, taking in the sanctuary of the small café and blocking out the world outside for as long as was possible or permissible. Puck tried to stir up a blush from Sam with a gag about how big his mouth was.

"How many tennis balls can you fit in there, dude?"

"I don't know. I've never had any balls in my mouth, _dude_," Sam said, trying out the new word. He liked it. "Have you?"

Santana applauded and Puck nearly did the same.

"YOU'RE FROM THE 40S YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO TALK LIKE THAT."

"I was in the _army_, dude, you think I never heard shit like that?"

"OLD MEN DON'T SWEAR!" Puck gasped, covering his ears in horror, his sheath of arrows clattering off his lap and onto the floor next to him.

"We did have swear words in the 40s too, you know."

"Does that mean my grandparents can swear?" Puck asked with soft concern to Santana. She rolled her eyes but Puck didn't notice because he was now looking at Sam and wearing a we-are-friends-now-and-you-will-deal-with-it grin.

During all of this, Blaine had tried to get up a few times to give a 'go team!' kind of speech but Finn wasn't going to have any of that.

"I BESEECH YOU, TINY MAN OF METAL, TO REMAIN SEATED OR MIGHTY BURT IN ASGARD HELP ME YOU WILL FEEL MJOLNIR'S WRATH."

But this peace could only last so long, and after a good ten minutes of Santana and Blaine trying to convince Finn that Blaine's hair wasn't made of metal like the rest of his costume, they couldn't ignore their duties any longer.

Finn and Kurt were sent back to their realm, and the rest of the Avengers had to deal with theirs.

But for Sam, the aftermath of the battle was harder to deal with than the battle itself. There were press conferences, meetings, debriefings, people saying they were heroes, people accusing them of failing, not doing enough, or letting them down.

Sam had replayed each moment of the battle over and over in his head, wondering what he could have done differently, how he could have done better, and if he had how many people would have been spared. So many things had gone wrong, so many things he could be blamed for. It made it him sick.

He stopped sleeping. He stopped eating with the rest of the team. He withdrew himself completely, telling himself that he couldn't deal with this new world and all of these new people who liked each other better than him anyway.

And so, Sam sat in his room in Anderson Tower staring at the burning rubble and tatters of buildings, feeling, as had become usual, hopeless and alone.

Out of the corner of his eye, far away in a city street, he spotted a small group of people. They didn't look professional or trained, but they had brought a wheelbarrow or two and were trying to clean up some of the rubble and broken glass in the street. They were trying to rebuild.

Sam was impressed, awed even. But just for a moment. When it passed, he felt immediately inadequate. These people had lost so much but they still had enough hope and drive to go on rebuilding and move on. He shut the curtains and flung himself on his bed and flicked through his sketchbook. A distraction. There were the faces of people from his past - Quinn, Rory – etched out carefully so he couldn't forget. There were more faces, people from cafés, other Avengers. But as the pages went on and got more recent there was one face that came up repeatedly, and then exclusively. Artie's.

The immediate warmth Artie had showed Sam, as well as the empathy Sam felt for his past and everything he'd been through made the good doctor so intriguing to him. Also his wicked sense of humour and ridiculously charming smile may have had something to do with it. Either way, he thought of how much the battle must have affected Artie, too. How much all of his battles had. How whenever he lost control and hurt someone, he'd surely blame himself.

But Artie moved on. Even though he'd lost so much, hurt so many people, and destroyed himself from the inside out in the process, he was so strong, so optimistic.

And so with these thoughts Sam was padding out of his room, heading into the elevator and pressing the 9th floor button that would lead to the lab floor.

As the elevator drew nearer he heard muffled music coming through the walls. He stepped out into the lab, walls covered in burn marks and beakers and test tube and dangerous looking chemicals strewn haphazardly (emphasis on the hazard) around. The music still blared.

_SHAKE IT, OH, SHAKE IT, SHAKE IT, OH OH_

_SHAKE IT LIKE A POLAROID PICTURE_

Artie and Blaine were in the middle of the room singing into beakers at each other with… alarming choreography. Blaine took the instructions 'shake it' to heart and was jiggling his ass with gusto, eventually shaking it all up in Artie's face as Artie pretended to spank him.

They slowly, tragically stopped dancing as they realised that Sam had entered the room.

Blaine straightened his cardigan and attempted to sweep his hair, which hadn't (or couldn't?) move back into place.

"Y-You weren't meant to see that, Cap," he said quietly, trying to piece together some shreds of dignity.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to unsee it," Sam grinned devilishly.

Artie cleared his throat and fixed his glasses. "You're out of your room," he pointed out obviously. "We were worried."

Sam straightened up, defensive. "Not enough to do anything about it, obviously."

Artie looked extremely hurt. Sam regretted saying it immediately and his head sunk in momentary shame.

Blaine looked between the two of them. "We thought you needed time," he said diplomatically.

Sam looked up just enough to give a slight smile. "I did," he admitted, then corrected, "I still do."

"I understand completely," Artie urged, "it takes time to rebuild."

The two shared a fond, knowing look.

And Artie may or may not have been checking out the Super Soldier. For science.

Blaine bounced back into the conversation. "So what made you decide to come out? Was it my encouraging text messages?"

Sam looked confused. "Uh, no. I still don't know how to use that phone you gave me."

"I can help you with that," Artie offered immediately.

Sam grinned, suddenly looking forward to learning about technology more than ever before.

Blaine looked crushed. "Those text messages were really something, you know," he said, muttering the word 'courage' under his breath and exclaiming, "Genius!" He left the lab still chuckling at his own wit.

Sam didn't quite know how to react to that so he went on. "It was actually you, Artie. You sort of inspired me."

Artie looked extremely taken aback. "_Me_?" he demanded. His confusion quickly changed to hurt and a dangerous green flashed in his eyes.

"Yes, you!" Sam insisted quickly.

Artie scoffed. "But I'm a-"

"Don't say it."

_Monster._

The unspoken word hung heavily between them.

"You're the nicest person in the 21st century," Sam began.

Artie derped in confusion.

"You made an effort to treat me like an equal. You included me in jokes. You even stopped Blaine from putting up that 'Science Bros only – no super soldiers allowed' sign in the helicarrier lab."

Artie allowed himself a laugh. "He spent so long colouring in the letters."

Sam went on. "You – or whatever extension of you the Hulk is – saved my behind out there in the battle field." He sighed, moving closer to Artie. "But the most impressive thing was that, even after all the shit the universe could possibly throw at you had been thrown, you moved on. You did good. You kept going."

Artie swallowed. "It's not that easy, though. It's never easy."

"I know," Sam said gently. "Like you said, it takes time to rebuild."

"Yeah, time," Artie nodded. "And… you know, somebody."

"Somebody?"

"Yeah, like the song says," Artie smiled and sang, "_We all need somebody to lean on._"

Sam stared blankly, trying to lock the lilt of Artie's voice in his memory.

"I really need to catch you up on music, Cap," Artie said gravely. "But yeah, you need somebody." He shrugged. "I mean, I've got Blaine, even though he's well… you know. Blaine."

Sam chuckled.

There was a beat of silence.

"You know, that song from before was your theme song," Artie grinned.

"I think I need a new theme song."

"I really think you don't."

"Will you be my somebody?" Sam asked swiftly.

Artie looked taken aback once again. "Of course!"

"I just," Sam stammered, "I really admire you." If a blush had crept up his cheeks neither of them would mention it.

Artie snickered. "Your funeral."

Sam gave him a scolding look but Artie waved his hand dismissively.

"Joking."

"Oh."

"Why so serious?" Artie asked him in a strange voice as they began to leave the lab.

"Um."

"We're having a movie night tonight," Artie decided immediately, selecting the kitchen floor on the elevator wall. "This simply can't go on."

"Great!" Sam chortled. "It's a date!"

The compact space of the elevator really didn't help the awkwardness that ensued.

There was no way they could ignore the blush in Sam's cheeks now, especially since it was matched in Artie's.

"I just meant-" Sam attempted to explain.

"Yeah, I know, not like a… a _date_."

"Exactly. Because, I mean, unless you wanted to-"

"Did you?" Artie looked into Sam's eyes. He faltered for a moment before continuing, "want to?"

"Yeah!" Sam replied. "I – I mean no. I.. .didn't mean to assume, you know it's just you're… you're…"

"What?"

"Brilliant," Sam breathed.

The elevator came to a stop at the kitchen floor. Puck stood in the doorway, arms full of bags of junk food that he'd just raided from Blaine's alarmingly well-stocked cupboards.

Artie and Sam didn't take their eyes off each other, a clear, thick tension in the air.

Puck chewed loudly. "Am I… interrupting something?"

Artie looked at him as if he'd just noticed that he was there.

"Yes," he said. "Yes you are."

He jammed his hand on the 'close door' and pulled Sam down closer to him by the dorky collar of his checked shirt.

"You're brilliant too," Artie murmured, their mouths so close that Sam's lips were already brushing against his as he spoke.

Sam's breath hitched and Artie closed the millimetres between them with an easy, soft kiss which grew more passionate as their limbs grew more entangled and Sam was pushing Artie against the wall and they shivered and groaned and grinned into the kiss and they didn't care they had no idea where this elevator was even going until-

"I KNEW IT!" Puck screeched as he opened the hatch on the top of the elevator and jumped in.

Santana followed closely wearing a wicked grin and calling out, "Anderson, you owe me ten bucks!"

And then Blaine blew up a wall in the side of the elevator because apparently he didn't know how else to enter a room. He was bobbing around in excitement even as he flew. "Congrats guys!" he beamed.

Sam wished he could say he was surprised when a boom of thunder echoed through the skies and moments later Finn and his hammer had broken through the last remaining wall. But he really wasn't.

"I SENSED THAT SOMETHING WAS AFOOT IN MIDGARD SO I CAME AS FAST AS I COULD. GOOD TIDINGS TO YOU, DOCTOR ABRAMS AND TO YOU, FRIEND SAM."

Sam chortled, and pressed his forehead against Artie's. The good doctor was smiling widely back at him. Their hands found each other, finding as well a moment of _them_ in amongst the moment of, well, _everyone they knew._

Living in Anderson tower with the Avengers was definitely going to take some getting used to. But Sam was really just happy he had five somebodies to lean on, and one somebody special.

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed! This is the first of many 15 days of Sartie prompts I'll be filling so stay tuned & let me know what you thought!_


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